Missing Moments
by sandypenguin6
Summary: A compilation of short-ish oneshots of Sybil/Tom missing moments of my own imaginings. Range from Series 1 - Series 3 in no particular order. Super Fluffy! Rating may go up, but probably not. Reviews welcome!
1. Part 1: Developments

**A/N: Hello people! Thank you for clicking on my story! And welcome to the Missing Moments first part: Developments. This chapter is set in Series 1 Episode 4 after the first S/T scene (aka the Pamphlet Scene!). I hope you enjoy it!**

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As Sybil sat in the backseat of the motor, she fingered the colourful Women's Rights pamphlets in her lap, pondering the alarming design request she'd given her dressmaker for her new frock and her family's reaction to it when it would arrive. Surely they would hate it, but her mother always told her that actions speak louder than words. So if her family would not listen to her opinions on women's rights, her opinions would be pretty hard to miss if Sybil were bedecked in them.

The moment Sybil had climbed into the motor, she had told Branson of her scheme. It seemed only fair since he had given her the pamphlets which gave her the idea for the frock. This raised an entirely new question in her mind. Sybil lifted her head up to stare at the back of the chauffeur's, who was driving in silence from Ripon back to Downton. At first Sybil was shy to speak up and ask her question, then reminded herself that he had spoken quite candidly with her about his politics on the way into Ripon. After a few minutes of staring at the back of Branson's head, Sybil finally spoke up, her voice quavering slightly.

"Um…Branson?"

"Yes milady?" His head turned slightly to the left to acknowledge her.

"I was just wondering why you're taking such an interest in me-er-I mean my interests." Sybil was glad that he was facing the road for he could not see her turn a delicate shade of pink at her slip up. "What I mean," she continued, "is that you don't even know me."

"Maybe not," he replied. "But I guess I'm just glad to be proved wrong."

"How were you proved wrong?"

"It's just that when I came to England and got a job here I thought that all you aristocratic women would be the same: content with the curtseying and calling and constant changes for dinner. I guess I never thought that a woman who had everything she could ever want would have a desire to get involved in the real world."

"Well, I don't have everything I could ever want," said Sybil quietly, her eyes dropping to the pamphlets again.

"What do you want? Really?" For a split second Branson turned around and looked her straight in the eye. Sybil felt his blue eyes penetrate into her innermost thoughts and feelings, the ones she kept hidden from view. She thought that from that one look he could know all her hopes and dreams because they were his, too. But when she blinked he was facing ahead again and she found them travelling on the gravelly road approaching Downton Abbey.

"What I want," Sybil said, "is for someone to take my opinions as a human being seriously. Not just because I'm the daughter of an Earl."

"I do," answered Branson. "I would; for as long as you wanted me to."

"Are you offering me your confidence?" Sybil asked.

"That…" He paused, as if unsure as to whether or not he should complete his statement. "And, I suppose, my friendship."

Before Sybil could respond they pulled up into the drive in front of the house. Branson quickly hopped out of the front seat and rushed to open the car door for Sybil. When Sybil had climbed out of the car she turned to face him.

"Alright," she said. "I believe I would be quite happy of your friendship, Mr. Branson. Shall we shake on it?" She stuck her hand out to him. He stared at it for a moment before smiling so widely it seemed to make his eyes sparkle. Sybil felt her stomach squirm as he grabbed her hand with his and gave it one firm shake.

"Alright, Lady Sybil. We're friends."

For a while the pair of them just stood outside the house, not knowing what to say to the other, until Sybil realised that they were still holding hands. She awkwardly took her hand from his, cleared her throat and said "Well, goodbye Branson."

He responded with a "Goodbye" in return as she pushed through the large front doors.

As Sybil climbed up the stairs to her room, she smiled to herself as she reflected on her new friendship with the chauffeur: one of the best developments of the day.

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**A/N: Sooooo? What didja think? Love it? Hate it? Desperate for me to write the next part? Let me know by reviewing! I will try to get the next part up as quickly as possible. Stay awesome, readers!**


	2. Part 2: Solid

**A/N: So this next chapter's slightly cheesy, but it's an idea that I've been messing with for a while and I like how it turned out. This is set in Series 2, probably between Episodes 5 and 6. Fair warning: I made Tom a bit AU in this chapter, but I thought it would be cuter if he had a peskier attitude! Also big thanks to all the people who reviewed my first chapter and I would love it if you reviewed this one! So without further ado, here is Part 2: Solid**

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"Branson!" Sybil sighed, exasperated at his insistence and inability to leave her be. "I told you I have to get back to work!"

"Work, work, work!" Branson shouted after Sybil, predictably following her as she marched across the vast, grassy fields towards Downton Abbey, the house just visible over a hill in the distance. "That's all you've done for the past week! C'mon, Sybil, you need some down time; to let your hair down."

He had reached her side and grinned impishly at her. Sybil humoured him with a tiny smile but shoved him lightly away from her. "You're impossible," she declared, quickening her pace.

"Maybe, but you like me anyway." Branson rushed to walk in front of Sybil, though facing her so that he was walking backwards. "OK, I'll make you a proposition: if you start calling me Tom I promise I'll stop badgering you."

Sybil nearly stopped dead at the obvious absurdity of his request. Then she realised that it was not quite that demanding. They spoke to each other almost every day, even if Sybil didn't need to be driven somewhere; and calling him by his last name may prove too tedious if they were to remain friends…or more…or whatever they were, or going to be if Sybil ever accepted his offer.

Sybil looked up into his face, still not slowing and Downton Abbey slowly drawing nearer. "Alright…_Tom_." Though the word dripped with sarcasm, her heart fluttered a little as she said it, as if she was always meant to call him by his first name. When she said his name, Tom's smile got even wider; so wide that Sybil's heart seemed to stop altogether. Without realising it the pair had stopped.

"Now," Sybil continued, managing to keep her composure. "Will you please let me get back to work?"

Tom grinned cheekily and revealed a hand hidden behind his back. "Fingers crossed!"

"Tom, _please_!" Sybil groaned in frustration, rolling her eyes at his childishness as she walked past him again.

"See? It's growing on you already!" _How can one man be so irritating yet so charming at the same time? _Sybil thought, mentally groaning again when she saw that the house was still quite a ways away.

Wanting to be shot of Tom for the time being, Sybil turned to face him, hands on her hips "Alright. Say I wanted to do something to take my mind off everything? What's the easiest and fastest way to clear my head?

Tom scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment before smiling mischievously at Sybil. Starting to regret bringing up the matter, Sybil's eyes widened as Tom stepped up to her, grabbed her wrists and began to swing her around.

Sybil was still too shocked to even utter a sound as the shades of green of the field flashed before her. Tom laughed gleefully as she squeezed her eyes shut so as not to get dizzy. "You can't close your eyes!" he yelled as Sybil felt the world spinning around her, unable to let go of his hands. "You're missing the different perspective!"

Sybil slowly opened her eyes, deciding that keeping them on Tom would at most help prevent the nausea. His arms were out, holding onto hers. His face was alight with indecent excitement. As he gazed at her, his eyes looked as though they had never beheld anything so wonderful. When Sybil tried to look away from him she felt the nausea return, so she turned back to Tom, the only solid thing in her world at the moment.

Still staring at Tom, Sybil finally smiled and laughed. It was full and vibrant and youthful. She hadn't laughed that way since before the war. As Sybil laughed, Tom continued to smile but loosened his grip a little. Sybil grinned and nodded, deciding that she was ready to let go. When he did let go, she planted her feet as firmly as she could so she wouldn't fall over right away. Sybil giggled as she staggered around, trying to regain her equilibrium. As the world tipped and turned before her disoriented brain, Sybil barely noticed as she stumbled sideways directly into Tom, who was also trying to regain his balance.

When they collided Tom fell first followed by Sybil, who landed right beside him. Sybil felt Tom tense at their close proximity, but Sybil just sighed, closed her eyes and started giggling lightly again. Still feeling as if the world was tilting, Sybil buried her face in Tom's shoulder; again, he felt like the only thing that seemed solid.

Sybil's life, like the ground beneath her, was tipping and changing since the war began, and even before that. After she became a nurse, Sybil's life fell into a new kind of normal and she'd gotten used to it; but what about after the war ended? What would become of Downton then? What else would change? How much farther would Sybil's life tip? She couldn't be sure. But one thing she could be sure about was what was right next to her.

After some time, Sybil felt Tom's arms slowly wrap around her shoulders, holding her close in a protective way.

Sybil smiled as she held Tom Branson: the only solid thing in her life.


End file.
